Tuesday, January 24, 2017

I am so
excited that SOULMATED by Shaila
Patel releases today and that I get to share the news!

If you
haven’t yet heard about this wonderful book by Author Shaila Patel, be sure to
check out all the details below.

This blitz
also includes a giveaway for a Perfectly Posh, Posh To Meet You Set ($20 value),
US Only courtesy of Month9Books. So if you’d like a chance to win, enter in the Rafflecopter at the
bottom of this post.

Eighteen-year-old Liam Whelan, an Irish royal empath, has been searching
for his elusive soulmate. The rare union will cement his family's standing in
empath politics and afford the couple legendary powers, while also making them
targets of those seeking to oust them.

Laxshmi Kapadia, an Indian-American high school student from a
traditional family, faces her mother's ultimatum: Graduate early and go to
medical school, or commit to an arranged marriage.

When Liam moves next door to Laxshmi, he’s immediately and inexplicably
drawn to her. In Liam, Laxshmi envisions a future with the freedom to follow
her heart.

Liam's father isn't convinced Laxshmi is "The One" and
Laxshmi's mother won't even let her talk to their handsome new neighbor. Will
Liam and Laxshmi defy expectations and embrace a shared destiny? Or is the risk
of choosing one's own fate too great a price for the soulmated?

Excerpt:

My mind wandered to a vision of what Laxshmi’s eyes would look like if I
kissed her. It caught me by surprise, making me cough. Grand. Now I was the one
with the concentration problem. If I kept this up, I’d have a hard time
blocking out my classmates’ feelings. I stretched my legs a bit and tugged at
my jeans. Jaysus.

Was I thirteen again?

Keeping other people’s emotions out of my head was like blocking calls on
my mobile. Normally, most empaths had about a ten- to twenty-foot reading
range, so it wasn’t too taxing on me, having been an empath since childhood.
Unless my concentration was shot to hell, blocking was as simple as breathing.
Soon, staying open to Lucky meant she’d have her own ringtone in my head, and
I’d be able to lock on to her feelings without having to do anything at all.

When the class bell rang, Lucky bent to pick up a small pile of textbooks
from the floor. I hoped she wasn’t one of those geeks who carried her books
around with her all day. Then again, maybe she was avoiding her locker because
of me. The thought left me frowning.

As she got ready to leave, I waited for her. “Going to your locker?” I
pointed at her books.

Her surprise came over to me in a gentler ripple than had her other
emotions. The gentleness reminded me of a calm day on Galway Bay—the sand,
small waves nipping at my toes, and the sun, glorious on my back. The surprise
felt like a warm ocean spray I hadn’t been expecting.

“Yeah,” she said with a sheepish grin.

“Brilliant. I’m heading there too.”

She bit back a smile, her excitement feeling like a frothy surf tickling
my toes.

When we approached the door, she rushed to catch it before it shut,
almost dropping her books. Most girls would’ve stood back and waited for me to
make a dash to open it, making sure I was being attentive. Lucky didn’t seem to
want any such nonsense, and I felt a bit off, like I’d put my trainers on the
wrong feet. I couldn’t shake the feeling of being in unchartered waters.

She stepped to the side and held the door open for me—for me—and I had to
dive forward to help her steady the load of books threatening to fall.

“Here,” I said. “I’ll help you carry these—”

“No. I mean, that’s okay. You’ve got your own to carry.”

I sensed a genuine concern from her, as if she were afraid to be imposing
on me, not something I’d been expecting. I stepped closer, meaning to convince
her to let me help, but then her eyes snapped up and met mine. The softness and
sincerity in them froze me to the spot. Lighter and more vibrant than the other
brown eyes I’d forced myself to stare into—all in the name of being romantic—
her eyes drew me in like a kaleidoscope, with amber and black flecks peppering
her irises. A soft gasp escaped her lips, and I understood how she felt. With
each blink of her long eyelashes, it felt like an eternity before I’d see her
eyes again. I had a strange urge to brush my finger over the tips of her
lashes.

I swallowed against the dryness in my throat. “I–I just have one book. In
my bag.” Jaysus Christ. What is she doing to me? I couldn’t get sucked in. I
wouldn’t. If I expected anything, it’d only turn into another disappointment.

About Shaila:

As an unabashed lover of all things happily-ever- after, Shaila’s younger
self would finish reading Cinderella and fling her copy across the room because
it didn’t mention what happened next. Now she writes from her home in the
Carolinas and dreams up all sorts of stories with epilogues. A member of the
Romance Writers of America, she’s a pharmacist by training, a medical office
manager by day, and a writer by night. She enjoys traveling, craft beer, and
teas, and loves reading books—especially in cozy window seats. You might find
her sneaking in a few paragraphs at a red light or connecting with other
readers online at: www.shailapatelauthor.com

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